


Hello, Major

by loathlylady



Category: Dragon Blood Series - Lindsay Buroker
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22043059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loathlylady/pseuds/loathlylady
Summary: The night of legend. The night Therrik and Kaika drunkenly slept together.***This was originally posted on The Emperor's Edge forums, which have since been taken offline. I've been going through my files uploading things here for posterity. I think I wrote this for Santacarius, a holiday gift exchange for Lindsay Buroker's work, which happened on the forums. At any rate, it was for my friend MeeraKat, who loves Kaika for her... uh, outgoing and assertive personality.





	Hello, Major

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MeeraKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeeraKat/gifts).



Kaika tossed back the last of her glass of takva, smiling as the aged liquor slid down her throat without a hitch. The first sip always burned pleasurably, and cleared out nasal passages, too, but by the time the bottom of that glass came into view, the burn was only a memory, and it was all delicious. The second and third glasses, and all those that came after, just improved the experience.

“Shit, Captain,” a voice rumbled to her left. “You going to need someone to carry you home?”

“Not unless _you’re_ going to need someone to carry you home, Major Therrik.” She gestured to the nearly empty bottle sitting on the table between them. “You tried to keep up with me.”

“Are you the one who’s going to carry me? Your partner left when his brother turned up and dragged him to the bar.”

“Did I need Nowon’s help hauling all those explosives in Cofahre? I can hump your drunk butt to your house.”

A grin cracked Therrik’s face and he coughed before saying, “All the way to the house, huh? That’d be a sight to see. Maybe the boys in the bar will want to buy tickets.”

“It’s only three blocks,” Kaika deadpanned.

They were in the officers’ club, taking up a corner table in a back room and celebrating their return from a successful mission in Cofahre. Major Therrik sat to her left, in charge of the top-shelf takva he had bought for them, to follow up the steak dinner that had since been cleared away. Captain Nowon had filled the third seat at their table, to Kaika’s right, but now there were just the two of them. Well, there was the bottle, but that was nearly gone. 

Therrik snorted and splashed liquor into their glasses. The bottle wavered in his hand, but he only spilled a little on the table. 

“Yeah, I bet you could manage that. I don’t know many who can tote enough explosives to take out four bridges and who’d slap the hands of anyone who tried to help them carry the duffel.”

“Not even Nowon gets to touch my bombs.” She might consider letting Therrik touch them after this last mission. Before him, she had never seen a man take out opponents with such single-minded, efficient brutality—a little disturbing, but the display of martial prowess and power had also inspired some mission-inappropriate thoughts. “You didn’t do so bad yourself. I’ve never seen anyone leap out from behind a tree with their face painted black and lay waste to an entire squad of Cofah soldiers with a knife, like the avenging spirit of some ancient Iskandian warrior.”

“They not teaching that at the academy anymore? Odd.” He lifted his glass. “Those Cofah dogs had it coming. Death to the Cofah!”

Kaika lifted her glass, which wobbled slightly in her hand. “May their war production be utterly fucked. Death to the Cofah!”

They drank, and Kaika drained her glass again, despite the smile she couldn’t get to leave. She hadn’t been able to wipe it away since they got on the Iskandian airship back in Cofahre to return home. Iskandia was getting a well-earned break in the hostilities, and a lot of that was due to her and Therrik. The intelligence Nowon had gathered would only further weaken Cofahre’s preparation for war. And she had blown up four bridges. Four!

Hells, she felt fine. Alive. Vital. Horny.

The takva wasn’t helping that last one. Relaxed and reckless went together really well with horny.

“Not many men can keep up with me,” she said and then stared at her empty glass. Shit. Mouthy went with those really well, too.

“That sounds like a challenge,” Therrik said drily. He still had some liquor left in his glass, but his cheeks were flushed and he had one arm propped on the back of his chair. Even relaxed and slightly rumpled, Therrik looked capable of handling an explosion or two.

She leaned back and raked what she could see of him with her eyes. The company wasn’t helping with the horniness, either. She could see the rounded swell of his muscles through his jacket, and she had gotten a couple good looks at him with it off on their mission. And then there were all the times she had seen him take on some opponent in the boxing ring at the gymnasium, bared to the waist, sweat coursing down the muscular planes of his chest to those lickable abs, only to disappear beneath his trousers. Such a waste, when she was willing to chase all that sweat with her tongue. Maybe she hadn’t misspoken, after all.

“They can’t keep up with me _anywhere_.” She bit her lip and let her gaze linger on his mouth. His full lower lip didn’t really go with the rest of him. Intriguing.

He hadn’t missed the lingering look, and he smiled speculatively as he glanced at her breasts, before shifting in his seat and giving her a smoldering look from under his lashes. Were breasts his thing? Was that what turned him on? Kaika fiddled with a button on her jacket, and his grin turned wolfish. Heat that was far more pleasant than the takva’s burn bloomed in her belly. She supposed the sweat was optional when it came to licking.

“I’d say we could see if that was so, but—” He leaned back to drag his pocket watch out, and his jacket stretched tight across his upper arm. Kaika huffed a breath. He was trying to kill her. “It’s after nine. Gym’s closed. Shooting range, too. Don’t know where we might go to see if we can keep up with each other this time of night.”

“I’ve got some ideas.” She winked at him and ran the toe of her boot up the back of his calf. His fingers fumbled the watch as he flipped the cover closed. He cleared his throat.

“Would that be your place or mine?” he asked as he put the watch away.

“Yours. It’s only three blocks. We talked about this already.”

“Damn, you’re blunt.” His grin increased in savageness. Oh, he was not a tame animal. “I like that.”

“I thought you might. You going to finish that drink, Major, or do I need to finish it for you?”

“Why don’t you?”

She reached for the glass, but his hand landed on her wrist. She looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“Slowly,” he ordered, caressing the inside of her wrist with his thumb. Her pulse leaped beneath the rasp of his calluses.

“Are you always this bossy with women?” She actually didn’t mind, but he had to know this was going to be a toe-to-toe match and she wasn’t going to roll belly up like a prissy little kitty-cat to a wolf.

His eyes glinted. “Yes.”

“There could be a reason you don’t have a steady girl, sir,” she said.

Therrik’s lips twisted wryly. “Likely. And you had better call me Vann.”

“Oh, I like _sir_. Sir.”

That wry twist changed back to the feral grin. He released her wrist and said, “Drink up, Captain.”

Kaika picked up the glass and turned it so the place where he had been drinking was lined up with her mouth, before quirking an eyebrow at him. 

“Slowly,” he ordered again.

“Let you see I like it?”

“Oh, yes.”

As she drank, she let her eyes drift close and just enjoyed the taste and the experience of the liquor slipping over her tongue. It was mellow and rich, and as delicious as ever, but she looked forward to finding out what Therrik tasted like. The line that bisected his abdomen, ridges of muscle on either side, popped into her mind, and she imagined running her tongue down it to his…

She ran out of liquor, and the thought was interrupted. A drop of takva rested on the brim, and she picked it up with the tip of her tongue before glancing over at Therrik. He sat watching her and staring at her mouth with an intensity she hadn’t seen before from him.

“You missed a drop,” he murmured.

“What?” The brim of the glass was clean. She frowned at it. Did he want her to lick it some more? It wasn’t the weirdest thing a man had ever asked her to do, but Therrik was a bit of a straight arrow, for all his surliness. 

Therrik set one of his hands on her thigh, leaned over the corner of the table, and kissed her. Hells yes. She managed to set the glass on the table before the rough press of his lips made her drop it. 

His tongue lapped at her lower lip, cleaning up that drop he claimed she had missed, and she opened her mouth to invite him inside. He took the invitation promptly, his tongue doing something the dizzy buzz of alcohol and lust in her blood didn’t quite let her decipher, but which made the pulse drum between her thighs. She dug her fingers into the back of his neck, and his hand left her leg and knotted in her hair, holding her head steady as her tongue battled his. 

She shifted her hands upward, raking her nails across his scalp, and brushing his ears with her thumbs as she sucked that full lower lip into her mouth. Therrik gave a throaty growl, and her nipples tightened painfully. She tried to drag him closer, ready to climb into his lap, distant audience of fellow officers be damned, but the table got in the way, and Therrik lurched off balance.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said when he had stopped the table from rocking and the bottle and glasses from rattling.

“Yeah?” He grinned, looking rather pleased with himself, and then stood, offering her his arm. Yep, straight arrow. She’d see just how crooked she could make him once they got back to his place.

Kaika stood up and took his arm, a little surprised that she needed its support to stay steady. Was that the kiss or the takva? Did she care?

They made it three steps toward the main room and the exit before he dropped her arm and draped his around her shoulders. She leaned into him, his masculine scent filling her nose. Nothing like the cheap stink some lieutenants drenched themselves in and that made a woman want to ask for a transfer to another base. Therrik used something woodsy and mature, a man’s scent, nice enough that she looked forward to getting even closer to him. 

Three more steps and his hand dropped to her hip. The nerves there sizzled happily under her clothes.

There weren’t many officers left to see them heading toward the exit. It was the middle of the week and close to midnight, so nearly everybody had to work the next day, but a couple tables were occupied and two men stood at the bar. One of them was Nowon.

He met her eyes and raised a hand in greeting, but his hand halted halfway and his eyebrows shot up as he took in Therrik’s hand on her hip. He frowned and then made the sign they used on missions that meant, _Are you all right?_

In reply, she grinned over her shoulder at him and looped her arm around Therrik’s waist.

Nowon’s mouth thinned and he signed, _Do you know what you’re doing?_

He had made that sign up for her. This wasn’t knitting; she knew what she was doing. Kaika dropped her hand to Therrik’s ass and gave an experimental squeeze. Round and firm as a summer melon. She couldn’t see it, but she knew Nowon had rolled his eyes. 

Therrik grunted and glanced behind him as he opened the door and held it open for her.

“Problem?” he asked as she walked past him.

“Nowon doesn’t approve of my decisions sometimes.” She stumbled on the steps and Therrik grabbed her elbow to steady her, which only made them both lurch. _That_ was the takva.

Therrik digested what she had said as they wobbled—walked down the road in the direction of his cottage. They made it around the corner and partway down the next road before he asked, “Do you and he ever—”

“Nowon? I’m not sure I’m his type.” She paused. “I’m not sure _anyone’s_ his type.”

“Huh,” Therrik said, but he released her elbow to put a proprietary hand back on her hip.

The walk to his house proceeded quickly, and Kaika resisted skipping as they went. Apart from the current risk of falling flat on her face, she didn’t want to dislodge that hand on her hip, and she was enjoying the sensation of all those muscles flexing against her side as they strolled. She was getting laid—an excellent thing to happen at the end of a mission, or even at the middle or beginning. Or before.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Therrik asked as he pulled out his keys. “I can still walk you home.”

Kaika slipped her arms around his waist and rose up on her toes, pressing her breasts into his back. Therrik froze. He was only a few inches taller than she was, so she didn’t have trouble breathing into his ear, “Yeah, I want to do this.” Her hand skimmed down his stomach, past his belt buckle, and landed on his fly. He was hot and hard and appealingly thick under her hand. He twitched beneath her touch when she grazed her teeth over his earlobe. “Don’t you? I think you want to blow off some steam.”

“Steam,” he muttered. He took her hand and set it back at his waist. She smiled smugly into the back of his neck.

“Like a teakettle.”

“Flattering.”

“A little red teakettle.” She laughed breathlessly and her hands headed south again. “That whistles.”

“Even more flattering,” he said hoarsely and again moved her hands back to his waist.

He went back to opening the door while she set herself the task of undoing his jacket buttons. If he wasn’t going to let her handle the goods before they got inside, then she’d just have to get to work on the packaging. She turned her head and rested her cheek on his shoulder while she did, which let her see the front of his house in the light from the street lamps. There was something written on the white paint.

“Do you really suck cocks?” she blurted in his ear. Not quietly. “I love that too!”

“What?” The door sagged open as Therrik whipped his head to look in the same direction she was. He growled, muscles tensing—not in a nice way. “Those brats from the academy vandalized my house again.”

“’Course, I don’t enjoy it unless it’s the right kind of cock,” she went on as if he hadn’t spoken, warming to her favorite topic after explosives. “Military’s chock full of ‘em, so you know what I’m talking about. There are some ugly ones out there. Anything I’m putting my lips around needs to be a looker. Nothing weird.” She dipped below his belt again and gave an assessing squeeze. “Yours might— _oof_!”

Therrik turned and scooped her up over his shoulder, clamping his arm across the backs of her thighs to keep her in place. Her head reeled at the sudden movement. He kicked the door open and carried her into the house, and then kicked it closed behind them. It thudded against the frame with a noise that probably woke the neighbors.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he strode toward the back of the house.

“Making you stop talking,” he growled.

“You shouldn’t knock it if you haven’t tried it, sir.” She squirmed against his shoulder, and he had to take a step or five to the side to stay upright. “It’s more fun than you think.”

“Talking?”

“Not that.”

“Behave, Captain.” He slapped her on the ass, a solid whack that stung a little. She grinned against his back. Hello, Major.

Therrik dumped her unceremoniously on the bed, and didn’t give her a chance to straighten herself out before he was on top of her, mouth finding hers and hands tugging at her buttons. She wiggled herself into a better position to grope him, wanting to explore the ass that men’s military uniforms left as something of a mystery. The trousers might be baggy in the seat, but Therrik wasn’t. Her earlier conclusion that it was like a melon was right—it was so firm and ripe, she wondered what he would do if she took a bite.

Several buttons popped free on her jacket under his eagerness, bouncing across the room and ricocheting off the lamp on the nightstand. Therrik gave a triumphant grunt, and before she could protest about the damage and her anemic captain’s salary, his hand slipped inside, stroking her through her undershirt. Kaika shuddered and gave up on her exploration to push his already unbuttoned uniform off his shoulders. He shrugged out of it and threw it off to the side of the bed. Their hands collided as they rushed to peel off Kaika’s jacket and their undershirts. 

“Shit, Kaika,” he rumbled, propping himself up on his arms. Even in the low light, she could tell his eyes gleamed. “That’s not regulation.”

“These are standard issue.” She cupped her breasts and winked as she ran her thumbs along the seams of her bra. “Every woman has ‘em.”

“I was talking about this.” He nudged her hands out of the way and stroked the scarlet silk with the backs of his fingers. He grinned evilly. “I should write you up.”

“Underwear is left to the discretion of female officers.” She strained for a tone of dry amusement, but those stroking fingers had turned inquisitive, and that tone was hard to find. 

“There’s something in there about keeping in mind the dignity befitting an officer.” 

“Take it off if you don’t approve of it.”

“Gladly.”

Therrik kissed his way down her throat, fingers that had torn the buttons off her jacket deftly undoing the hooks on her bra. She made a breathless sound of amusement at that realization—had he torn some other woman’s lingerie off and been reprimanded for it?—but it turned into a sharp gasp when he fondled oversensitive flesh with his callused fingers, and then followed it up with his mouth. She was one brilliant buzz of desire from her collarbones to her knees. Then Therrik sucked the peak of one breast into his mouth, and she arched against him as heat flooded to one spot in particular—bright and sharp, like a fuse burning down.

“Therrik,” she gasped, “head south. Now.”

“Vann,” he corrected, but skimmed his fingers down her bare stomach. Her skin shivered in anticipation. Oh, brilliant. “What should I call you?”

“Uh, Kaika.”

“Your first name…” he began, nuzzling her throat.

Kaika froze.

“No,” she said after a moment. She tried to push his head back to her breasts, figuring that ought to distract him from the topic, but he propped himself back up on his arms over her.

“I was going to ask how you pronounce it.”

“You don’t,” she said. He was awfully chatty for a man with a stiff cock pressed into her thigh and the prospect of sweaty, frantic sex in front of him.

“Huh?” 

“You don’t say it if you want to have sex with me.” She rubbed her leg against his cock. “You do want to, don’t you?”

“Yes.” He swallowed. 

“Then call me Kaika. And head south. Vann.”

That wolfish smile from the officers’ club returned, and he kissed her, his hand heading south from her belt buckle. There was that bullet dodged. She gave him a little encouraging sound and pushed her breasts into his chest, which was as nice for him as it was for her. Soon, any thoughts he might have had of saying even something so simple as her name were far beyond either of them.

  
***

  
Kaika woke to what sounded like a creaky screen door swinging. Right in her ear.

She turned her head to the left and scuttled back so quickly she fell off the bed. Her ass slammed into the floor, which hurt far more than it should have. Did she have a bruise?

Rising up on her knees and rubbing the tender spot on her bare butt, she peered over the edge of the mattress at the bed’s sole occupant now. Major Therrik was in her bed, and he was grinding his teeth, the source of the screen door noise. Worse than snoring.

No, she realized, as she glanced past him to the display of weapons on the wall. This was his bed. And he was naked, which meant…

“Aaah!” The truth struck her like a bullet. He and she—

Therrik stirred and grunted, and Kaika hit the floor. 

“Like hiding’s going to help anything,” she muttered to herself, then got distracted by how much space there was under the bed. Either Therrik had big plans for underbed storage, or he hid people under there. Two fairly large men would fit, even if they had to snuggle a bit. But the only reason Kaika could think of to hide under a bed involved espionage or jealous spouses, and Therrik didn’t seem the type to invite either, especially into his home. Last night had proven she had been right when she had pegged him as a straight arrow. Straight arrows needed first names.

Nowon was going to smirk himself sick the next time he saw her.

The space under the bed was empty now, and she could see most of her clothes on the floor toward the door. If she belly-crawled into the kitchen, she could grab them and make a clean getaway without having to face him at all, and they could jump straight into pretending this hadn’t happened. She didn’t know where her boots were, but she could walk home barefoot. It was time for a new pair, anyway.

“Kaika?” Therrik said quietly and wearily above her. “What are you doing?”

“How did you know it was me, sir?” she asked without rising.

“I recognized the scream from the time you got shot on that mission last year, and I like to remember the names of women I’ve slept with. Would you stop calling me sir?”

“You’ve got a good memory.” Incredibly annoying in this situation. She pushed herself to her knees but didn’t bother to rise far enough to expose anything but her head and shoulders. Thankfully, Therrik was propped up against the headboard and had the sheets pulled across his lap. “I don’t think I can stop calling you sir, sir. It would only make things more awkward.”

He snorted. “I don’t think that’s possible.” He fished an undershirt out of the sheets and shoved it at her. “Put this on.”

“That only solves half of the problem,” she said as she accepted the shirt.

With a resigned expression, he fished further in the sheets and extracted her panties, which he handed over with the alacrity of man giving a grenade with a pulled pin to his enemy.

“They’re not _poisoned_.” She managed to slide them on without showing off anything.

“A warrior knows danger when he sees it,” Therrik said, his voice muffled by the shirt she was pulling over her head. “Even if he runs straight into it half the time.”

“Only half?” Kaika stood up, feeling much more cheerful with clothes on. “I thought you were braver than that, Major.”

“Bravery’s mostly advantageous foolishness.” Therrik sighed, the tolls of last night showing clear on his face. His head must be pounding more than Kaika’s was. “Lav’s down the hall and to the right if you need it. I’ll give you the first crack at it. I’m putting on a pot of coffee.”

Kaika wandered over to the door to gather up the rest of her clothes, and she bent over to pick up her trousers and uniform jacket.

“Hells, Kaika,” Therrik groused from the bed, “could you not do that before you’ve got your trousers back on?”

“Didn’t seem to bother you last night, sir.” She straightened, clothes in her arms, and flicked a meaningful glance at the headboard, which they had put to good use together.

Therrik’s cheeks darkened, and his expression grew more dour. Muttering imprecations under his breath, he wadded the sheet around his waist and tried to stalk to the dresser on the other side of the room from the door. Unfortunately for his dignity—she had forgotten how very much dignity meant to him, and wished now she had remembered that at some point between the steak and the end of the takva—the sheet didn’t quite cover one side of his ass, and a tattoo was clearly revealed. Talk about indignity. Tattoos on the butt were for college girls who wanted to be naughty where nobody could see, not big burly army officers. Smug in her discovery, she resolved to tease him about it the next time his feathers needed to be ruffled.

When she emerged from the lavatory, Therrik had a pot of coffee on the stove and he was fully dressed, down to his boots. Even though they both had the day off, he was wearing his uniform trousers and a black undershirt. No civvies for him.

He gestured to a chair at the kitchen table, and she sat down. There were two coffee cups and what might have once been an apple on the table.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much food in the house,” he said as he brought the coffeepot over to the table and filled the cups. “I haven’t had a chance to go shopping since we got back, and I’m not much of a cook, anyway.”

“Take most of your meals at the mess hall, huh?” 

He looked chagrined and a little embarrassed. “Yeah.”

“So do I.” Kaika smirked. So they had that in common.

He grunted and pushed one of the cups toward Kaika before taking the pot back to the stove and opening the cupboard by the sink. He slammed the door closed, grimaced at the sound, and then set a rectangular glass bottle next to Kaika’s cup. Aspirin. The first positive development of the morning.

She twisted the top off the bottle and shook a couple tablets into the palm of her hand before handing it to Therrik and washing the aspirin down with black coffee. Extreme bitterness filled her mouth, but she choked the wretched mixture down.

“Brew it a mite strong, don’t you?” she asked.

Therrik shook four aspirin into his palm and washed his down with black coffee as well, though he avoided grimacing or vomiting. 

“Puts hair on your chest,” he said. 

“Women aren’t as eager for that as you might think, sir.”

He grunted again and shifted his weight uneasily. 

“Look, Captain, about last night, I’m not really in the habit of sleeping with…” He trailed off and tried to cover up his frustration by taking another swallow of coffee.

Kaika didn’t touch her coffee, but said, “I’m not really in the habit of sleeping with people who can write me up for my underwear choices and affect my career.”

“Good,” he said, then winced. “That’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy last night, because I did, but you’ve…” Words failed him again, and this time he didn’t try to cover up his frustration. “Damn it, Kaika, you’ve got a bright future ahead of you, and it would be a waste if you fu—fouled that up by sleeping around with senior officers.” 

Kaika stared at her cup, biting back the urge to give a flippant answer and ask if that meant he thought Arelia Chason should be her next choice— _she_ didn’t have a problem with sleeping with lower-ranking officers, so long as they were pretty. Therrik wasn’t exactly known for handing out advice to lower-ranking officers, and what he did offer usually involved a round in the boxing ring and some blows to the head.

She supposed it made sense that the advice he did offer was laced with profanity.

“Thank you, sir,” she said at last. “Usually only my mom gives me advice like that, but she wants me to settle down with a nice boy and pop out a few babies.”

“Your mom,” he repeated and then snorted. “Don’t get married or anything, because you’d have to leave the service, and that would be a waste, too. Just… show some discretion now and then.”

“I don’t think marriage is for me. Man hanging around all the time, living in the same house?” Her lip curled in disgust at the thought. 

“Well, you’re a handsome enough woman, so you shouldn’t have trouble finding someone if you ever start thinking that way.”

“Handsome?” Kaika raised an eyebrow. “You certainly know how to flatter a girl, sir.”

His expression grew wary. “Are you not supposed to call women handsome?”

“Not unless you want them to know that you think they resemble a man.”

“Huh.” He sipped his coffee and looked thoughtful. “Truly?”

“Oh, yes, sir.”

“Huh.”


End file.
